Final Fantasy VII: God Play
by Cockatiel
Summary: Years before the events of Meteor, see how it all began. How the ambitions of two men would change the world forever, and their creation who was caught in the middle. This is the story of those who tied to play God, and the ultimate consequences(complete)
1. Chapter I: Till Death Do Us Part

Final Fantasy VII: God Play  
  
"Before God, we are all equally wise...and equally foolish."  
–Albert Einstein  
  
"Sleep my friend, and you will see, That dream is my reality."  
–Metallica, Master of all Puppets  
  
Foreword  
  
AGTCGATTACTGTCTAGAJENOVATACGACAGCTGGATCTATG W arning. The story you are about to read is the tale of Sephiroth's past and some events centering on him, Hojo, his guardian Miriam, and Professor Gast. But you already knew that. What I'm warning you about is the writing itself. You might find it enlightening. That's fine. You might also find it sick, twisted, and demented. That's fine too. But if you have any doubts, I suggest you turn back now. Seriously, the story is a real downer. The whole thing is basically a tragedy. I'm warning you, this is your last chance to leave! You still there? Alright. I'm going ahead then. Welcome to Final Fantasy VII: God Play.  
Just don't say I didn't warn you.  
  
Chapter I: Till Death Do Us Part  
  
A graveyard was a pleasant place to think.  
He stood in a small patch of grass along the path of the Nibelheim cemetery, wearing a khaki colored trench coat, a black umbrella in his hand. The rain beat down from the turbulent skies above. There was a brief flash of lightning followed by a drum roll of thunder. Hojo didn't mind the rain; he merely observed his surroundings in a detached, disinterested way as the thoughts swirled around and around again. Still, he saw everything. The way each individual raindrop slid down the leaves of the gnarled oaks lining the path, rolling to the very tip and hanging there almost in suspended animation, then falling as a gust of wind flung them from their perch. The way the lightning zigzagged down as if the sky was cracking in half, and then disappearing without so much as a trace. The way the long grasses swayed around his wife's tombstone, caressing it with thin green fingers. It all seemed so...appropriate. The gravestone was a plain granite slab with a bas-relief of a rose and leaves near the top. It read simply:  
  
Lucrecia Hojo  
XX year to XX year  
"Roses are forever"  
  
She was gone, and soon to be forgotten. She didn't matter at all. There was still him. There was still the child. That was all that mattered.  
The grounds keeper Henry Rutherford sloshed along the sidewalk in his rain slicker and black galoshes. Another one of the famous Nibelheim storms had come up again, unexpectedly as always. If it didn't stop soon, if would fuck up everything he had planned for the afternoon. You couldn't take the wife and kids out on a picnic during a damn thunderstorm. And you certainly couldn't watch the game on TV when the damn power was out. That was the thing about the storms; sometimes you got off okay, and sometimes you got royally screwed.  
He rounded the corner outside the cemetery and stopped, forgetting momentarily about picnics and baseball. Through the wrought iron gate he could see Professor Hojo, the Professor Hojo, standing over his wife's grave with an umbrella in his hand. Why he just couldn't wait for the storm to clear up was beyond him. In fact, the wind seemed to be blowing a bit harder. Henry could see oak branches scattered all over the sidewalk. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey! Professor, I think you better get inside!" he shouted. "I think something big is coming this way."  
Hojo turned and nodded cordially, "Yes, you're probably right," he said. "I'll be down shortly. You should get inside as well."  
"Thank you, sir," said Henry. "Take care now." He fixed his rain hat and went on his way. Hojo turned back to the gravestone. Yes, the man was right about one thing. There was something big coming this way. Very big. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rose. It was red as blood and practically flawless. Hojo examined it clinically for a moment, turning it in his fingers, then set it atop the headstone.  
And smiled.  
  
Two Weeks Ago...  
  
Even before she took a step, Lucrecia knew she was dying.  
It didn't come on suddenly; she hadn't been feeling well all day. But then, she thought it was because she was due any time now. She knew that soon all this would be over, and she could hold her little baby boy in her arms for the first time. She felt something else though, something she didn't like. Her head felt very fuzzy and the light hurt her eyes. Any sound she heard was amplified to a screaming pitch that made her skull feel like splitting. Hojo's in the bedroom, Lucrecia reassured herself. If anything happens... She didn't finish her thought. A ripping pain racked her body. She fell off the chair, clutching her stomach, and fell to the floor. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Oh God, I must be having a reaction, she thought, her mind strangely calm. It must be the Jenova cells.  
  
Excerpt from Gast's Report, Pg 3 XX month XX day XX year ...an ancient preserved in a 2000 year old geological stratum. It has been code named Jenova. Preliminary tests show it is still alive. Samples were taken of its cells and DNA. Our predictions were correct; the Cetra have a much higher compatibility and resonance with materia than normal humans (see overleaf 3a). Further testing is still required...  
  
Lucrecia put her hand to her brow. It burned beneath her palm and was slick with sweat. She looked up from the wooden floor causing the world to sway sickeningly before her eyes. Her disorientation was so strong that she squeezed her eyes shut again. If she could get up and make it into the bedroom, it would be okay. She just had to make it through the hall. Reaching out with a shaking hand, she grabbed the edge of the table and hoisted herself up. Her legs felt like lead weights as she stumbled out of the study and into the hall. The corridor couldn't have been more than six meters long, but it looked as if it had lengthened into infinity. There was one bright speck at the end, the open bedroom door. The light at the end of the tunnel, she thought deliriously. She took a tentative step into the hallway and fell against the wall with a cry. Her shoulder thudded on the wood. The image of the hall split into two, then tripled, quadrupled, and finally converged back upon itself. I'll never make it, honey. I'm so sorry.  
  
Excerpt from Gast's Report, Pg 15 XX month XX day XX year This Cetra has DNA that has several introns not in humans (see DNA map, diagram 15b) and it acts in a bizarre way in contact with other DNA. It enters over the nucleus of a cell and replicates itself like a cancer. While too much exposure causes extreme mutation, DNA exposed to small doses of these Jenova cells takes on its characteristic introns. We have reason to believe that these are what create the higher magic power (see overleaf 15a). The question is what would happen if human cells were exposed to this DNA...?  
  
Centimeter by centimeter, Lucrecia traversed the hallway. She felt her heart beating so fast she was sure it would burst. Every panting breath she took felt like taking in molten metal. The brass door handle danced in front of her, the reflections of the lights leaping off of it and spearing her eyes. She reached out and grabbed the handle. It felt cool in her hand. She turned it, expecting it to be locked, expecting to die in the hallway alone, but it opened. She fell into the bedroom at the feet of her husband. "Hojo, I'm...," she said weakly, and trailed off. It just felt so good to lie here on the floor. She noticed idly that it was rather dirty, and that she should get the maids to come in and sweep up after this was over. "Please," she whispered. "Take care of yourself...and Sephiroth." Then darkness came over her senses and she drifted into unconsciousness  
  
Excerpt from Gast's Report, Pg 27 XX month XX day XX year ...those infused with Jenova cells display increased magic powers and abilities. However, their DNA does not have the full set of introns. Perhaps if the cells were infused into a fetus...  
  
Lights. Bright lights rushing past before her eyes, burning streaks onto her retinas. Voices speaking all around, voices speaking incomprehensible nonsense. Lucrecia turns her head on the stretcher. There is a man sprinting beside her, pushing the stretcher, white coat flying out behind him. He speaks something about an emergency Cesarean section. She thinks about her son, Hojo, and Vincent, God, why is all this coming back now? Tears start streaming from her eyes as the stretcher slows down and stops under a mass of white lights. Hojo is there standing over her. She smiles weakly, but he is not smiling, a look of cold concentration  
(indifference) on his face. She lifts up an arm to touch him, to see if he is real. She sees that her hand has an IV taped to it. It shakes as she whispers, "Hojo," only it doesn't feel like a whisper, it feels like a scream. He regards her calmly, oh so calmly, and says something to a man next to him. The mask comes down on her face, and the last thing that she ever sees, or thinks she sees, is a single rose petal, red as blood. And all is darkness. 


	2. Chapter II: Advent Child

Chapter II: Advent Child  
  
H ojo looked upwards at the Shin-Ra building, seventy stories of concrete, glass, and steel tapering away into the clouded night skies of Midgar City. It was amusing in a way. Man is always trying to reach for heaven, for God, but it is always just beyond his grasp. But today— He stopped himself. A man of about forty with brown hair and a moustache was walking towards him across the plaza, waving. He felt a stab of irritation. It was that prick Professor Gast again. He hadn't seen him for over a year, but that was too short a hiatus for his liking.  
"Kawasaki!" Gast said, extending a hand. "It's been a long time. Everything's going well, I presume?" Hojo looked him in the eye and smiled. It was forced smile, but one could hardly tell. The way it could change his whole persona caught Gast off guard. He was normally taciturn, an erudite man absorbed in his studies. But now he looked...well, like a completely different person.  
"Everything's fine," he said evenly. "You?"  
"Great, great!" Gast said. "The Jenova Project's going very smoothly. President Shin-Ra's just given us a major budget increase for the research."  
"And how is Sephiroth?" Hojo pressed. "Did he...advance at all during my absence?" Gast's welcoming face faltered. The way Hojo talked about his son disturbed him a little. He always got this eager glint in his eye when the subject came up. Almost fanatical.  
"He's become very intelligent. We've tested him and found he has the IQ of a seven year old. He also has a very high compatibility with materia." Hojo nodded. "It's all in my report. If you want to see it now I can show you."  
"Yes, I'd like that," he said. A chill wind blew through the plaza, sending several dry, brown leaves skittering across the pavement. Gast wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.  
"Damn, it gets cold here," he said. "I thought I escaped from it when I moved from Icicle. Let's get inside." He turned and walked towards the sliding glass doors of the Shin-Ra building. Hojo stared vehemently after him. Why should Gast be the head of the Jenova Project? It was he who created Sephiroth, the advent child who would become the ultimate being.  
The green eyed monster hanging on your shoulder, Hojo? he thought. Hah. Yes, it was jealousy, he wouldn't deny that. He fingered the .38 in his pocket and looked at Gast's back. In his mind's eye, he saw himself draw the pistol and shoot Gast right below the left shoulder blade. A trace of a manic grin played on his lips. The most frightening thing was that these thoughts were not irrational in the least. They played themselves out in a calculated manner, like a slowly rotating chain of silver gears. He took his hand out from his pocket. Taking one last parting glance at the sky, he followed his superior inside.  
  
Sephiroth woke up sweating, aquamarine eyes wide as saucers. His breathing was shallow, irregular, and it sounded painfully loud in the darkness. He dug his nails into his pillow, trying to concentrate on stopping his breathing, but he couldn't, his heart was going so fast—  
Stop it! Stop it! He thought with clenched eyes. There's nothing out there. It's just pretend! But something inside him told him it wasn't. He sat up slowly. The sheets slid off his thin chest and onto his lap. As his eyes adjusted to the night, he could see that there was nothing out of the ordinary. He saw the door to the hallway in front and the two small wings on either side of the room. The room was roughly T-shaped, with his bed and dressers in the base of the T. There was a black fan spinning lazily above his bed. Almost everything else in the room was white, sterile, save a small picture of the mountains beyond Midgar hanging above the headboard. Sephiroth breathed a sigh of relief and fell back on his bed. His long feathery hair, white as dove wings, settled about his pillow. His eyes meandered over the various patterns on the ceiling and thought. He knew that he had a dream, but he couldn't remember what it was about. All he knew was that there was an incredible light and a sound like church bells tolling that got brighter and louder, and yes, more beautiful until it reached a point where he was sure he'd go insane. Of course, there had been no shortage of strange dreams lately, dreams many times more real than this.  
Just last week (or he thought it was last week) he was taken to a room with metal walls and a metal table with a pan of water on it. There was a man there wearing a white coat. The man handed him a faintly glowing green sphere and told him to freeze the water. Sephiroth told him that he couldn't do it himself, that they should just put it in the freezer, but the man said no, you can do it, just focus on the materia and imagine the water freezing. He had no idea what this "materia" was, but the marble thing in his hand started to glow brighter. He concentrated on its swirling green depths and he suddenly felt cold, felt like he'd freeze to death if he didn't somehow get rid of it. He looked at a spot just above the water and tried to channel the coldness out. There was an amazingly loud crackling noise, and ice crystals seemed to burst from the air above the table. The man in the white coat jumped back as the water in the pan froze solid instantly and the ice started to spread across the table's surface. It crawled up the walls, onto the ceiling and Sephiroth was sure he would have frozen the man too if he didn't jump to his feet and yell "STOP!" The ice did stop, just as suddenly as it had started, and the man just nodded and wrote some things down on his clipboard.  
Then there was another dream where he was lying on his back on a table (maybe the same one he'd frozen, it was cold enough) staring into a blinding light. There were several people standing over him silhouetted by the light and one of them held up something long and sharp and—  
He shuddered and pulled the covers over his head, grabbing his chocobo doll tightly. He heard a noise and he tensed. He remembered having a talk with Ma'am about kids and their fear of monsters under the bed ("That's just dumb," he said scornfully) and now he almost believed it. There were monsters, he had no doubt. It was who they were that was the question.  
  
Miriam Adler sat in the kitchen of the small apartment on floor 10. She rested, legs crossed, at the bar with a mug of coffee in her hand. Or, as Sephiroth called it, "that nasty brown stuff." She smiled wistfully at the thought. She had been assigned Sephiroth's guardian shortly after he had been born. Before that, she was the wife of a lab assistant who worked under Professor Gast. They were relatively well off and lived contentedly on the upper plate of Midgar. Until one day she received a call that said her husband had thrown himself off of the 67th floor balcony.  
That wasn't a good day.  
Lonely and without a steady source of income, she had heard that the Science Department needed a nanny to watch over a special child. A boy. She had no idea what the Shin-Ra's plans were for this boy, but she needed a job.  
"And the rest, as they say, is history," she said. She took a sip of her coffee. There came a noise from behind. She turned around and was surprised to see Sephiroth standing there with dark circles under his eyes. Miriam quickly set her mug down knelt down to hug him. "Morning, Sephiroth. What are you doing up so early?"  
"Oh, no reason, Ma'am," he said, returning the hug. Another smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She loved the way he called her that. When he was younger he called her "Mom." She explained to him that she wasn't his mom and that he should call her Miriam. Of course, he couldn't pronounce Miriam well at all when he was one (God knows how he was talking that well at all!) and it came out as "Ma'am". Miriam picked him up and set him down on a stool in front of the bar.  
"Do you want me to make you something to eat?" she asked.  
"No thanks. I'm not really hungry." He crossed his arms on the table and laid his head upon them.  
Miriam cocked her own head. "Are you feeling okay this morning?" she asked. "You look like you didn't sleep well."  
"You know everything!" he said. "I had a bad dream last night. I don't remember much of it, but it was scary. And I thought I heard some weird noises. I was...sort of afraid to go back to sleep." He said this last sentence with some shame.  
"I'm sorry, honey," she said. "Do you still want to go to the playground today?"  
"Yeah, I guess."  
Miriam shook her head and put her hands on the table in front of Sephiroth. He looked up at her. "Listen, Mister. I think I know something that will cheer you up."  
"What is it?" He asked.  
"Take a guess."  
Sephiroth put a hand on his mouth and looked off to the side. His other hand tapped on the table. "Umm, you can get rid of my freaky dreams?"  
"Nope."  
"You somehow got me a real chocobo?"  
"Sorry."  
"You can fly?" They both laughed at this one. "I really have no idea."  
"Well, I heard from some people in the Science Department. Your father's coming to meet you tomorrow." The look on Sephiroth's face was priceless. His eyes widened as if he wasn't sure if he had heard right. Then a grin spread across his face and he laughed. It was a beautiful sound.  
"No way! Is this true?" He looked at Miriam with hopeful eyes.  
"Unless I heard wrong," she said. Sephiroth hopped off the stool, a look of shock mixed with ecstasy on his face.  
"Oh my gosh, this is so awesome!" he said. "I never knew he'd ever come back for me. I can't wait to see who he is, what he looks like—" Then he stopped speaking and shook his head. "This is so awesome," he repeated. The absolute earnest in his voice made her heart swell and she realized, not for the first time, that she felt at home. Corny, but the truth.  
"Do you feel better now?" she asked.  
"Yeah. Thanks a lot Ma'am."  
  
It was 11:30 at night, and Sephiroth still couldn't sleep. His mind was busy, whirling, with thoughts of the following day. In the books he'd read, every kid seemed to have a father, a person who would take them fishing, go on hikes, or just explore the city. Now he had one too, finally, and maybe all three of them would become a family. Just me, Ma'am, and Dad.  
He shivered with excitement and took the chocobo doll off his dresser. "Bochi, tomorrow I'm gonna have a dad!" The chocobo just stared at him with its black button eyes. He threw himself on his back, hugging the doll in his arms. "Yeah, tomorrow'll be great." He chuckled a little. "Maybe if they get to know each other well enough, Ma'am and Dad will get married! No, wait. I'm getting way ahead here." He checked his watch, decided it was late enough, and turned off his lamp. He pulled the covers over his head. He didn't have any bad dreams that night. Instead he dreamt of riding his own gold chocobo across emerald plains beneath an endless blue sky.  
  
While Sephiroth slept safe in his bed, Hojo was still wide awake, sitting at his desk in the dimly lit laboratory. Almost everyone else had left hours ago. Gast was still awake too, probably finishing up a discussion with that living Cetra they located. What was her name again? Ifalna or something like that. In front of him a newly completed report lay under the harsh fluorescent lights. Its cover read: Jenova Project: DNA Analysis of the Jenova Sample. That wasn't what his attention was on though. On the left of the report was a picture of his son and his guardian. Both were out on a balcony, a blue sky splashed with whitewash clouds behind them. The guardian (Miriam, that's what her name was) held Sephiroth up so that the camera could reach him. His unnaturally aqua eyes twinkled with mirth. They were an angel's eyes. Hojo ran a long thin finger around Sephiroth's face. Everything about him was perfect, the paradigm of human form and vitality. And it was through science that this creation was realized. Gast never seemed to comprehend this.  
Just then the door opened and Gast walked in rubbing his forehead. Speak of the devil, Hojo thought.  
"You still up?" he asked Hojo.  
"Yes. I was just finishing up that report you asked me to compile on Jenova DNA and that Cetra's DNA." He slid it across the desk. Gast picked it up and leafed through it. "Were you talking to Ifalna again?"  
Gast laughed, a tired and weary sound. "Am I that predictable? Well yes, I have. I've never met anyone quite like her. She's told me many things." He stopped on a page that caught his interest. His eyebrows knitted together. "This can't be possible. This part of the DNA's completely different. Is this thing really a Cetra?"  
"We won't know until we run some more tests," said Hojo, getting up. "I'm going to sleep. I'm visiting Sephiroth tomorrow to see if he's ready for the next stage of the project."  
"I'm sure he'll be happy to see that his father hasn't abandoned him after all," said Gast. 


	3. Chapter III: Ambrosia

Chapter III: Ambrosia  
  
T he day dawned cool and cloudy, with a harsh wind that whistled around the Shin-Ra building, rapping at the windows as if wanting to be let in. Sephiroth was sitting on his bed in his nice clothes, fidgeting nervously. Miriam was busy finishing the laundry. She folded one of Sephiroth's favorite shirts and set it in the basket. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. She was sure that if Hojo didn't get there soon Sephiroth would jump out the window or something. The clock in the laundry room ticked monotonously. Miriam leaned over and rested her chin on her fist. Every second wound the spring of tension tighter.  
Tick.  
Tick.  
Tick.  
Her reverie was interrupted by three sharp knocks on the door. Her eyes sprang open and she went out into the foyer. She reached out and opened the front door. Hojo stood there in a dark blue blazer and pants. "Good morning, Professor," she said. She felt herself blush a little. She hadn't seen him in over three years and she had forgotten how handsome he was. He regarded her over his wire rimmed spectacles.  
"Good morning Ms. Adler," he said. "Are you doing well?"  
"Oh, fine thanks," she said. "Come inside. Sephiroth's in the other room." He came in and closed the door behind him. At the exact same time, Sephiroth opened the door at the other end of the hall. He just stood there for a bit, looking at the father he never met. He was tall, about 185 centimeters, but with a thin frame. He had a handsome, pale face with high cheekbones. A pair of olive brown eyes sat behind his small round spectacles. His hair was black, and Sephiroth could see that it was pulled back into a tight ponytail that reached to the middle of his back. He let a few fly away hairs hang around his eyes. For a moment, Sephiroth couldn't do anything. He didn't really know what he was supposed to do, what was proper. Then all of that flew out the window as he felt a rush of exhilaration and dashed into the foyer. He might have been crying; he wasn't sure. He ran up to his father and, too short to do it properly, hugged him around the legs.  
"Dad...," was all he could manage. Hojo reached down and put his arms around Sephiroth's back. Miriam stood quietly, observing the scene. Sephiroth was crying freely now, but he grinned through the tears. Hojo was smiling as well. Miriam didn't trust that smile. It was quite pleasant, but there was an air of mocking to it, as if he was hiding a secret and was about to burst out laughing because he was the only one who knew.  
Damn that women's intuition, she snapped at herself. Why can't you stop seeing what's not there?  
Because this is wrong, a little voice said. He's the one who left Sephiroth with you for three years. Now he suddenly comes back. Maybe the Science Department is going to carry out whatever plans they have for him.  
She shook her head. No. Don't think about such things. She looked up. Sephiroth was chatting excitedly with his father. The uneasiness returned in full. No, she didn't like this.  
She didn't like it at all.  
  
"So Sephiroth, where would you like to go first?" Hojo asked after they had said their goodbyes.  
Sephiroth looked up at him with bright eyes. "You're asking me?" he said. "Well, let's see, there's a lot of stuff a want to do. I mean, I want to catch up and all, but I'd like to see more of the building—" His stomach rumbled. "I'm also hungry."  
Hojo laughed. "We can do all of that then. You've never been above this floor, right?"  
"Yeah, that's right."  
"Come with me." Sephiroth grabbed his hand and they walked off, down the hallway of the built in hotel. Hojo spoke as they walked. "So, how have you been while I was gone? Are you happy in this place?"  
"I've been good. The place we live in is sorta small, but I have fun. And Ma'am's really nice." He looked down as if in thought. "Why were you gone all this time?"  
"I'm afraid I've been rather busy with my job," Hojo said. "The schedule isn't very forgiving. I've been working on a major project for over five years." He looked down at Sephiroth. "I'm sorry that I haven't been here with you. Do you forgive me?"  
Sephiroth looked surprised. "Of course I forgive you! You came back didn't you? It's all okay now."  
"I'm glad you understand," Hojo said, inwardly grinning. The kid really trusted him. This would make it a whole lot easier. The hallways opened up into a vast lobby filled to the brim with customers and Shin-Ra employees. Sephiroth looked all around, taking in every sight. He had been out here, but never when it was so busy.  
"Just how many people are in this building?" he asked.  
Hojo pondered this for a moment. "Probably ten thousand. Twelve thousand including the people in the hotels." Sephiroth gaped.  
"How is that possible?"  
"Shin-Ra is the most powerful corporation on the planet. The people in this building are just a small part of those who work here." They reached the elevators. Hojo punched the up button and the door opened.  
"Which floor are we going to?" Sephiroth asked running over to the window and putting his eyes up to it. He loved to see how the great height made everything below look like toys in a dollhouse.  
"The sixty-first floor," Hojo replied. "There's a pretty nice restaurant up there."  
"Um, but there's no button for that floor," said Sephiroth. "I checked the last time I went on with Ma'am." Hojo marveled at the boy's intelligence. A three year old would never remember that. Hell, a seven year old probably wouldn't. He was a true prodigy, no denying that. Feeling as if God Himself were looking upon him with envy, he reached into his pocket and produced a key card. Sephiroth watched fascinated as he swiped it through a slot by the door. A panel above the normal buttons slid back to reveal eleven more which lit up to floor seventy. Hojo turned to Sephiroth.  
"Would you like to do the honors?" he asked. Sephiroth nodded. He ran over to the panel and jumped. His finger just barely reached the button, but he made it and the elevator shifted as it made its ascent. Sephiroth went back over to the window and focused on a red car in the parking lot. It shrunk to a tiny point and when the elevator finally stopped, he could barely see it anymore. They stepped off the car, and Sephiroth was surprised to see that they had ended up inside the restaurant. A waiter came over and sat them down at a table.  
"So Dad, what exactly is your job?" Sephiroth asked, paging through his menu.  
"Well, I'm mainly a geneticist."  
"What's that?"  
Hojo hesitated, thinking how to explain this. "Geneticists are a type of scientist. We study the things in living organisms that make them what they are. Whether you're a human or an animal is determined by a substance inside you called DNA."  
"So you're a scientist..." Sephiroth looked up at him and an odd look came into his eyes. "Are you mad?"  
"Mad? Why should I be? You didn't do anything wrong." Sephiroth shook his head.  
"No, not angry mad. Crazy." He twirled his finger around his head. Hojo laughed again.  
"No, I'm not mad. I can think coherently and have control over my actions. But then again, would a crazy person really admit that he's mad?"  
"I'm not sure. Ah, never mind," said Sephiroth, filled with loving admiration. He didn't really seem to fit his image of a mad scientist anyway. Considering that he'd never actually seen one in his life, Sephiroth found it strange that he could even picture it at all. But he had a feeling it wasn't like the normal person's image. There was no old castle, no lightning illuminating its stone chambers like blue fire, no strange machinery or rods spouting electricity. Just a solitary figure in a long, white coat standing in a dark room looking over his shoulder. In his hand was...well, something nasty. Sephiroth couldn't identify it. And the figure's eyes shone with their own malevolent light. The thought came on so strongly that he actually had to suppress the urge to shiver.  
They waiter came by and asked for their orders. Hojo ordered nothing but coffee ("What is it with you adults and coffee?" Sephiroth asked). Sephiroth ordered some spaghetti. "Which floor do you work on?" he asked suddenly.  
"The sixty-seventh and sixty-eight. All the labs are up there."  
"Maybe after this you can take me there and show me what you're working on." Hojo adjusted his glasses.  
"Sorry Sephiroth, you can't go there unless you're directly involved with the Science Department. I'm forbidden to show anyone." Sephiroth blinked.  
"Why not?" he asked with his eyes riveted on his father.  
"Simply because the president wants me to keep all the projects confidential," answered Hojo. "My superior and I have no say in this. I'm sorry."  
"It's okay," he said quickly. It only lasted a second, but Hojo's eyes changed. They looked like strange embers that didn't give off heat but stole it from the very air. And was it just him or did he detect a note of spite in the word "superior"? Oh well, probably his imagination.  
"But I think I have a way I can make it up to you," Hojo said slyly.  
  
Twenty minutes later they were in the elevator again, rising rapidly up to the 70th floor balcony. Sephiroth's heart hammered in his chest as they climbed. This was higher than he had ever been. He wasn't afraid of heights inside, but outside...well he'd just have to see. At the same time he was filled with an almost electric excitement of being able to see all of Midgar at once, like how president Shin-Ra could.  
The elevator ground to a halt and the doors slid open. A wash of cold air chilled the small cabin instantly. Sephiroth looked out at the balcony and tried to figure out what to do.  
He closed his eyes.  
Heart fluttering like a sparrow in a cage, he walked out onto the balcony, arms out in front of him. He took small, quick steps that made slight clinking sounds on the metal grating. A small part of him thought that if he stepped too heavily the floor would break, sending him plummeting down seventy stories to the plate below. He figured he was about halfway to the railing when a brisk fall breeze swept past him, blowing his hair back from his forehead and wafting the dull odors of exhaust and Mako into his face. It gave him a dizzying but not unpleasant sense of vertigo. His outstretched fingers touched the cool metal railing. He grabbed it with both hands, and when he was sure he was safe, opened his eyes.  
All of Midgar lay before him, a great gray expanse lying under a turgid, overcast sky. He could see innumerable lights and alleyways that crisscrossed the upper plate like electrified wires. Directly in front of him was the Shin-Ra Mako Reactor Number 8. Bright green Mako exhaust spewed out from its immense metallic cooling vent like a cloud of emeralds. As he took in the sights, a soft drizzle began to fall. He looked back at his father, wanting to say something, anything, but no words would come out. Hojo just nodded as if he understood.  
He turned back and gazed upon the city for another moment. Midgar. His home. Feeling his soul rise like a balloon into the blue he raised his arms and face to the sky and laughed, letting the rain beat down on his face while his eyes wept tears of joy.  
  
When Sephiroth returned to the apartment that night, all he could talk about was what a good time he had. Miriam listened to him explain how he and his father went to the restaurant and how he got a bird's eye view of Midgar. He told her how Hojo showed him a scale model of the city, an incredible replica of a Mako Reactor that showed exactly how it worked, being introduced to several of the other employees, and many other things.  
Miriam felt herself relax a little more. She wasn't sure what she expected to happen to Sephiroth today, but it wasn't anything good. The fact that he talked so expressively and genuinely relieved her. Hojo hadn't done anything...well, bad to him. Maybe she was just making a big deal out of nothing. No one ever told her anything about whatever project Sephiroth was involved in. It could be something a simple as a behavioral study. The little voice still gnawed  
(get him away from here he's not safe) at the back of her mind, but she ignored it. And when she went to check on Sephiroth after dinner, he was fast asleep with Bochi in his arms. 


	4. Chapter IV: The Missing Rainbow

Chapter IV: The Missing Rainbow  
  
A monster of a rainstorm, even bigger than the one that hit Nibelheim three years ago, pounded the city with wet, black sledgehammers as Hojo descended to the plaza in the clear-glass elevator. It had started has a fine sprinkling and steadily built its way up to a shower. By the time the evening rolled around, it was a full blown deluge complete with pyrotechnics of light and sound.  
Despite the storm it was hot in the building and he wanted to get out and get some fresh air. He got off at the ground floor and went to the exit. Only a few other people were walking around. This was fine. He wanted to be alone anyway. He pushed open the door and was surprised to see Professor Gast leaning against a support pillar gazing up at the sky with vacant eyes. Well, he wasn't alone anymore.  
"What are you doing out here so late?" Hojo asked.  
"Hm?" Gast said without looking back. "Oh, it's you Kawasaki. I was just thinking. I need time to clear my head." Hojo walked over and leaned against the other side of the pillar. "I've been thinking about the Jenova project. The results of the Jenova/Cetra DNA comparison came back from the lab."  
"And?"  
"Jenova isn't a Cetra. It's something else entirely. There's nothing like it on record." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one in the corner of his mouth and handed the pack backwards. "Cigarette?"  
"No thanks," said Hojo. He heard the click of a lighter and Gast taking a drag.  
"We don't know enough about this thing," said Gast, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "I'm not sure if we should continue with the project."  
Hojo scowled. First the bastard steals the glory and now he wants to stop the project entirely? The fool. He has no idea of the possibilities. No idea at all. He clenched his fist. "President Shin-Ra has high expectations for this project," Hojo said. "He wouldn't continue funding it like this he has if he had any doubts. Besides, my son is living proof of the wonders of Jenova."  
"But if we don't know what we're dealing with, we can't be doing the eth...the right thing." Hojo knew what he was about to say. Ethical. A weakling's word, an excuse for not giving your all.  
"He's my son. I own him. I'll take responsibility." Silence from Gast's end. "The President wants results. Do or die Sephiroth is getting his Jenova injections tomorrow as scheduled. I saw him today. He's ready."  
Gast sighed. "I'm afraid you're right as usual. I suppose the President won't take no for an answer."  
Or me. "I was thinking maybe fifteen ccs of five percent Jenova." He said this with a sick sort of pleasure that made Gast feel a little ill.  
"I don't think so," he said. "That's already about an adult's recommended dose. He might be sick for days if you give him that much."  
Hojo's temper nearly snapped. "Don't you see that anything less is too little? The President wants results! If we get this right we're on the road to glory!"  
"Five ccs will work well enough," Gast said wearily. Hojo started away.  
"Fine. I'll go draw it up right now. Have yourself a good night." He went inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Gast took the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled. It had burned down to a stub. He watched the rain make ripples in the black puddles between the cobblestones.  
"Are we really heading down the road to glory?" he mused. "Or the road to perdition?" He let the cigarette fall from his fingers and he crushed it under his foot.  
"Sometimes I wonder."  
  
"Can you see it?"  
"I'm looking Honey, I'm looking." Both Sephiroth and Miriam were out on the small balcony of their apartment craning their necks to look at the sky. The storm had dissipated during the hours of the morning. The air had a fresh, clean smell to it as if the whole world was born anew. The sky was a flawless cerulean. Sephiroth heard that there would be a rainbow, so he and Miriam had spent the past fifteen minutes looking for it. He had only seen a rainbow once, about six months ago. The only memory he left of it was captured in a photograph that he kept in his album under the bed. He scanned the air looking for it and saw a flash of red, but no, that was just a Shin-Ra flag fluttering in the breeze on another balcony. He sighed.  
"I guess it's not here," he said.  
"I can't seem to find it either," said Miriam. She tapped her fist on the railing. "Shoot, I could have sworn there would have been one, the sun's behind us and everything. Ah, well, I'm sorry. Maybe next time."  
"S'okay Ma'am," said Sephiroth a little dejectedly. He looked up at the sky one more time.  
"Well, I'm going to take a shower," patting Sephiroth on the back. "I won't be that long, okay?"  
"Yeah, all right." He followed Ma'am inside and went into his room while Ma'am went into her bathroom and shut the door. Sephiroth walked over to his drawing table in the right wing of the room and sat down, resuming work on a drawing he had started yesterday. It was a picture of him, Ma'am, and his dad on the top floor of the Shin-Ra building, looking over the city of Midgar. He was in the middle holding hands with both of them. Something about it displeased him though. The sky. That was it. It was to plain. He took the red crayon and drew a sweeping arc overhead. Then he took out the orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple crayons and did the same.  
There. The rainbow may not have been outside, but it was here at least. He was choosing another crayon when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up, remembering that Ma'am probably couldn't hear the knock. Setting the drawing aside he went over to the front door and opened it. "Dad!" he said.  
Hojo was standing there looking as impressive as ever. This time though, his eyes had a stern look of concentration that Sephiroth had never seen. He was also dressed differently. He wore a long coat so white and spotless that it almost made him squint. Sephiroth had the strangest feeling he had seen it before, but couldn't remember where. He didn't really care though. Hojo had come back again!  
"Hey Dad! What are you doing here?" he asked. "I didn't think that you'd be back so soon. You know, with your job and all."  
"Sephiroth, I'd like you to come with me," Hojo said. "I need to take you somewhere." Sephiroth cocked his head but turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth.  
"Hey Ma'am! Dad's here and I'm going out with him, okay?" He turned back to Hojo and grabbed his hand. "Alright. Ready."  
"Sephiroth?" called Miriam from her bathroom. She dashed out with a towel around her waist, still dripping wet, but by the time she got there, they were gone.  
  
"So Dad, where we going today?" Sephiroth asked. This was one of the most pleasant surprises that could have happened to him.  
Hojo said nothing in return. He only stared ahead with that same look of intense focus as they passed through the hallways. His olive eyes were cold and hard. A bit scary even. "Um, Dad?" he said.  
No response.  
Okay, so maybe he doesn't feel like talking today, he thought. That's fine. Still, he felt a strange sense of fear forming in the pit of his stomach. His outfit. It was so familiar. But why? He wracked his brain for a minute and found the answer. It was the same thing the man in his dream wore. And his mad scientist. So what if they wear the same thing? It doesn't mean anything.  
They emerged from the hallways and Hojo made straight for the elevators. He picked up his pace so that Sephiroth actually had to run. He stopped in front of the elevator and jabbed the up button. The door opened without delay and they stepped inside. Sephiroth watched his father pull out the keycard and swipe it deftly by the slot in the door. The panel slid back. He didn't let Sephiroth press the button. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle when he saw what button it was.  
It was number 67.  
As the elevator rose higher, Sephiroth squeezed his father's hand more and more tightly. The 67th floor. Why was he going there now? Hojo said it himself: only people directly involved with the Science Department were allowed up there. So why?  
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The got out and found themselves in a place that seemed totally alien in comparison to the rest of the building. It was incredibly silent except for the soft humming of some kind of machinery. People dressed similarly to Hojo were walking around on the white tiled floor. The ceiling was covered in bright florescent lights. There were lab benches all around and what looked like large vats lined some of the walls. As they passed these, Sephiroth swore he heard something coming from inside.  
Hojo led him to a small room from a door of the main lab. Inside were a black examination table and some cabinets at the far end of the room. More cabinets were placed above the table around the perimeter of the ceiling. The whole place had a stark smell to it that made Sephiroth want to gag. Hojo let go of his hand and pointed to his right.  
"Get on the table," he commanded. Sephiroth looked up. He was about to ask why, but his father's icy gaze made the words die on his lips. He climbed up on the table. Hojo rolled up his sleeve and swabbed his arm with some of the smelly stuff. It was freezing and Sephiroth gave a little shiver. He watched Hojo go over to the wall and rummage through one of the placards. He stood up and Sephiroth saw the 10 cc syringe in his hand.  
"Dad, what are you doing?" he asked in a shaky voice. Hojo said nothing. He squeezed the plunger and a couple of drops of pinkish fluid squirted out in a glistening arc. He turned to Sephiroth as if remembering he was there and walked towards him. "Dad, stop it," he said. "You're...scaring me." He felt himself backing away as Hojo approached him. His back bumped against the wall as he stared wide-eyed with fear. Hojo's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He plunged the needle into his arm.  
Sephiroth screamed. Pain. More pain than he had ever felt in his life, a volatile burning that made his arm feel like a red hot metal rod. The fire spread through his veins and he felt it flaming in the tips of his fingers, to his feet, to behind his eyes, oh God, it burned. His whole body was on fire. He jerked away and hopped off the table, trying to run but the moment his feet touched the floor a new shock of pain shot through his body and his legs collapsed beneath him. He fell to the floor with tears running from his eyes in rivers. The floor was blessedly cool but it did little to quell the fire inside him. He drew his knees up to his chest and curled into a fetal position, a sobbing shuddering mess. And somewhere in his consciousness he heard high, mirthless laughter.  
He had no idea how he ever made it back to the apartment. The world around him was enshrouded in a thick, red haze as he stumbled drunkenly through the halls. He was pretty sure that his father was there holding his hand, but later he found that he could hardly remember. The walk took an eternity. When he finally made it to the door, it opened and he fell to his knees on the carpet. He leaned against the wall with his arms wrapped around his legs and cried.  
Miriam entered the foyer and immediately dropped the laundry basket she was carrying. She rushed over to Sephiroth. "Sephiroth! What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked. He reached up and hugged her around the neck, sobbing into her chest. "Sephiroth, what's the matter honey, what's the matter?" But inside she knew what the matter was. Hojo had done something to him, something that had to do with the "project". She looked down at Sephiroth's arm. There was an angry red swelling on one of them that was rapidly becoming a greenish bruise. She hugged him tightly to her, not wanting to let him go. "What did he do to you?" she whispered. Sephiroth just shook his head.  
She picked him up and carried him to his room. She laid him down on his bed. He pulled the covers over his head, shivering. Miriam walked back out, but stopped and stood in the doorway watching him. She suddenly remembered something that her old nanny used to tell her when she was younger.  
"Hon, all little chillun are born blessed by the angels. They be the most innocent and pure things on God's green earth. Now, don't you evah make one of these chillun cry. Because when an angel child cries, the whole world will hear."  
She wasn't quite sure what made her suddenly think of this. It was probably her disgust that his own father did something like this to him. Seeing him lying there shaking, seeming so small and alone made her heart ache. "Sephiroth," she said, "I'm so sorry." She flicked off the light and closed the door behind her.  
  
It was 12:30 at night when Sephiroth finally awakened from his daze. He looked around, a bit disoriented. He was back in his own bed again. The apartment was in complete darkness, soothing and tranquil. That's when he realized with relief that his body was no longer burning like it was, though his arm still throbbed with unnatural heat. He also recalled why he had to get up: he hadn't gone to the bathroom since that morning.  
He was reluctant to leave the warmth and softness of his bed, but he hopped out anyways and walked to the small bathroom in the left wing of his room. Despite his long nap, his legs still felt weak and shaky as he relieved himself. He went over to the sink and washed his hands, not looking down at the sink but at the mirror. His familiar face stared back at him. Same green eyes. Same white hair. Whatever was done to him didn't change him physically. He didn't feel particularly different either. His hand crept over to his arm and he winced. The spot had turned a sickly green color; it made him feel queasy looking at it.  
He didn't mean to hurt me, Sephiroth tried to reassure himself. He was...probably just doing what was best. The reflection gave him a dubious look that clearly said "You sure about that?" He nodded his head back at it and turned off the light. Giving a small yelp of surprise, he stumbled backwards.  
For a second infinitely brief, he was sure his eyes glowed.  
But there was nothing there now. It was so dark he couldn't even see his reflection. Shaken, he returned to his bed and tried to sleep, but couldn't. The previous day still weighed on his brain. He didn't feel the least bit tired any more. Turning on the lamp on his dresser, he grabbed Bochi off the floor and set it in front of him.  
"Bochi, what do you think that Dad was trying to do?" He felt silly asking a doll this, but he had to tell someone now. If he knew the word, he would have called it catharsis. As usual, Bochi didn't answer. Sephiroth rocked back and forth on his haunches. "I don't think he was trying to hurt me. He was probably trying to help me. Right?"  
Bochi didn't answer.  
Who knows what was in that thing? came the inner voice, the voice of doubt that haunted Miriam in the same way it did him. If it hurt that badly it can't be anything good. Stop fooling yourself.  
Shut up! thought Sephiroth. What do you know?  
You heard it as you fell. The laughter. He was laughing. Laughing at you.  
I won't believe that. I was half fainted. I was imagining it.  
Believe what you want.  
"He's my Dad," he said aloud. His voice sounded melancholy and empty. "No matter what he did...I forgive him for it. I still love him." He turned around and got under the covers, leaving Bochi to fall on the floor forgotten. 


	5. Chapter V: Abandon

Chapter V: Abandon  
  
Miriam assumed her usual spot at the counter, waiting for Sephiroth to wake up and come talk to her. She needed to know what hurt him. She needed to know what Hojo did. The thing that pained her the most was seeing Sephiroth suffer. She never wanted him to feel pain like she had.  
The door opened. Miriam turned around and saw Sephiroth walk out. He didn't look like he had a particularly good night's sleep, but other than that he appeared normal. She remembered back to the night before. She had come into his room again a bit later and heard him crying out words in his sleep that alternated between "Ma'am" and "Dad." It almost made her want to cry herself.  
"Morning, Ma'am," he said. He gave her a look of forced confidence.  
"Hello, Honey," she said, getting up and hugging him. "How do you feel this morning?"  
"Oh, I'm all right now," he said in what he thought was an offhand voice.  
Miriam's brow furrowed. "Sephiroth, I'd like you to tell me what happened yesterday," she said. He looked down at his feet and said nothing. Terrific, Miriam, you just made things worse. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he looked up again. "I'm sorry to remind you, but I only want to know because I don't want you to feel hurt."  
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Please don't hate him, Ma'am," he said softly.  
"What?"  
"Yesterday Dad came by our house. He told me he needed to take me somewhere, so I want with him. He took me up to the sixty-seventh floor"— Miriam's heart gave a jolt —"and we went into this room. The he...um...." He made a stabbing motion into his right arm where the bruise was.  
"That's what made you sick?" she said, unable to keep the horrified tone out of her voice. "Hojo injected you with something?"  
"He didn't mean to hurt me!" Sephiroth said. "He didn't mean to make me cry. He would never do that! He was doing it for my own good. I know it! I know it!"  
"Maybe so," sighed Miriam. "But if something like this ever happens again, I'll put a stop to it. I can't stand seeing you in pain. If anything ever happens, you just tell me and I'll be damned if I let it continue." She put a hand over her mouth and felt hot blood rush into her cheeks. "Sorry," she said.  
Sephiroth giggled in spite of himself. God, he loved her. Why couldn't she be his mother?  
"It's all right," he said. "I think I'm feeling better now."  
Miriam let her features relax. "That's good. Well, I need to go shopping now. Do you want to come?" Sephiroth nodded.  
As she pushed her cart through the aisles of the store, Miriam could see that Sephiroth wasn't as okay as he said. He was twitchy and nervous, eyes flicking all around. When a bunch of cans fell of the shelf behind them and clattered to the floor, he actually gave a little jump. He was truly unnerved, and yet he defended Hojo. Miriam suspected he would till the end.  
She let her mind drift away on a sea of thought. Why was this happening now? After three years she finally felt that she had found her place. The death of Michael Adler was now a memory that had lost coherence, fading but still haunting like shadows on a wall. Sephiroth was her saving grace. Was God so cruel as to snatch away their happiness when she had only begun to live?  
  
"Good morning, Miss Adler. How are you doing today?"  
Miriam stood in front of Hojo by the front door, holding Sephiroth close to her. She couldn't believe it. He has the gall to come back like this and act like nothing happened?  
A week had gone by without any word from the Science Department. Sephiroth regained most of his former cheerfulness and even Miriam began to think that everything was going to be all right. Don't get so confident, she reminded herself. This isn't over yet. You have to protect him.  
And now she was right. "What business do you have here, Professor?" she said carefully.  
"I would like to have Sephiroth come with me for a while."  
"What do you want with him?" she asked.  
"We just want to run a simple test—"  
"What kind of test?" Miriam pressed. "It won't hurt him, will it?"  
"Ma'am..." Sephiroth chastised.  
Hojo started. "Well, it shouldn't. It's a simple magic aptitude test. We'll be testing his level of skill in terms of casting spells."  
"It sounds dangerous," she said. "I don't think—"  
"Ma'am," repeated Sephiroth, looking up at her. She stopped and stared down into his eyes. They were bright and sincere. "It's okay," he said. "I'll be fine."  
"Sephiroth..."  
"Believe me. It's all right." Miriam paused, then nodded reluctantly and let him go.  
"Thank you, Miss," Hojo said. "You can expect him to be back within a half hour. Ready, Sephiroth?"  
"Yep!" he said. He grabbed his hand. "Maybe after this we can all go and look off the top of the building again." Hojo just smiled and shrugged. "See ya later, Ma'am!" They both walked off, leaving Miriam feeling very much alone.  
  
Sephiroth stood with a materia in his hand in the middle of the big room. He could hear faint voices coming from behind a large mirror that took up half the front wall. There were electrodes attached to his head and eyelids, their wires snaking up into the ceiling like tentacles. Hojo had taken him to the 67th floor again. He was acting normal once more, the cold empty look on his face replaced by his previous expression of gentle sympathy. Sephiroth was nervous, but talking to his father made him feel better. When they exited the elevator, he thought he would have to go in that small room again, have to endure that burning pain. Instead, Hojo led him to a different room, still white but much larger and covered in tiles all over the ceiling, floor, and walls. There was a pillar-like object in front of the mirror that reminded Sephiroth of a TV antenna.  
From behind the one way glass, Gast, Hojo, and two technicians watched him. One of the techs was fiddling with an EEG, the other with a galvanometer and voltmeter. "So what's the target zone we should be aiming for again?" asked Gast.  
"At least three hundred volts and two amperes should be good," said Hojo. "That translates into a magic power of about thirty."  
"And of course we'll be looking for the typical alpha wave M-Pattern," said Gast.  
"He'll still be receiving more Jenova immediately afterwards?"  
Gast rubbed his temples and sighed. He had completely forgotten. "Yes, I suppose. It's on the schedule."  
Hojo turned to the technicians. "Is everything ready yet?"  
"Yes. EEG's in sinus rhythm and voltmeter and galvanometer read zero."  
"Let's get started then," said Gast, picking a microphone from the control panel in front of him. "Sephiroth, can you hear me?"  
"Yes, Professor Gast!" He sounded confident, or at least as confident as one could under the circumstances. Gast felt a sudden pang of guilt and thought of what Ifalna would say. This child, he thought. He will never lead a normal life. He will never get to play with other boys his age. We have taken his life away. And for that I have sinned. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on like this.  
He tried to push the thoughts from his mind. "Sephiroth, do you know what that green orb in your hand is?"  
"Yeah, it's called materia."  
Ah, so he remembers. "Okay, Sephiroth. I want you to concentrate on the materia and then release the magic onto the rod in front of you. Begin readings for trial one," he instructed the technicians. "Start now, Sephiroth."  
Sephiroth concentrated on the materia as he had in the dream, or perhaps in that instance of memory that wasn't a dream at all. He felt power surge through him. What felt like static electricity pulsed in his fingertips and tore a warpath through his arms. That magic crackled throughout his body. It was amazingly energizing but not painful. "Okay, we have the M-pattern!" said one of the technicians. The EEG traced an alpha wave of ever increasing spikes. As soon as he released the magic, it would peak off the graph. Sephiroth was shaking now, trying to hold in the spell. Suddenly, something inside him quelled, and he knew that the force would escape him. He put his hands out and aimed for the lightning rod, praying that he wouldn't miss and destroy something.  
"Here it comes!" said Hojo. He got closer to the glass. From out of nowhere, a small white bolt of lightning struck the rod with a shower of sparks. "Yes! That's it! What did we get on that one?" He looked eagerly at the reading on the machines.  
"Only one hundred eighty-three volts and point five amperes for trial one," said one of the technicians.  
"The alpha wave spike wasn't very pronounced either," said the other. He handed Gast the readout.  
"Hmm...still not bad," he said writing the information down in his log. "That's a magic power of twenty-two."  
"He can do better," said Hojo shortly. He damn better well. He picked up the microphone. "Sephiroth, can you hear me?"  
"Y-yeah," he panted. He couldn't believe how tired he felt. It was like he'd just run the 50 meter dash.  
"I want you to try this again. You have more power than that in you and we want to see just how much that is."  
"Okay Dad, I'll try," he said. Hojo handed the microphone to Gast and stepped back again.  
No word of praise, thought Gast. Just 'do it again for me Sephiroth'. I'm in a nightmare. It's like everyone has forgotten their humanity. His mind turned to Ifalna again. Or maybe I'm the only one who has recovered theirs. "Begin readings for trial two. Go whenever you're ready."  
Sephiroth held the materia tightly, tried to draw out its power, tried to concentrate on its mysterious green glow. I can do this. The vice of electricity gripped him again. He clenched his jaw and gathered it up inside himself. His closed fists shook with power. Come on, come on, I can't hold it any longer. It was a thrashing snake that that got stronger with each second, until it finally wrenched itself from his grasp and transformed into pure lightning. The bolt was bigger this time and it made a pronounced zzzt sound when it touched the metal. The magic must have taken some of his energy along with it, because all at once his legs felt weak and he wanted to sit down very badly.  
Damn it! thought Hojo when he saw the readings. He's not trying! That can't be all he can do! He picked up the microphone again. "Sephiroth, please try this one last time. You're doing well, but I know you can do better."  
"Alright," said Sephiroth with obvious fatigue. Gast suddenly stepped forward and took the microphone from Hojo's hand. He glared daggers at his back.  
"Are you sure you can do this?" Gast asked. "If you're too tired we can do this again another day."  
"No, really, I'm okay," Sephiroth said.  
"Alright then. Begin readings for trial three. You may fire when ready."  
Sephiroth closed his eyes and focused with all his might. The electricity entered him and he felt something different happen. Instead of spreading through his whole body it seemed to center, a mass of frenzied energy, somewhere in his chest. He opened his eyes. His body was surrounded by a glowing yellow-green aura that brightened and faded along with his heartbeat. His mouth dropped open and he held up his hands. They too were glowing. At his feet energy radiated across the floor in waves.  
"Yes, this is it," said Gast. "He's got the magic to respond to him this time."  
"M-pattern has almost peaked!" said the EEG technician.  
I've got it now! thought Sephiroth. With a "Ha!" of satisfaction, he held out his hand and channeled the magic at the lightning rod. The resulting bolt filled the room with intense light and noise. He fell to his knees with spots dancing in front of his eyes.  
"Ha ha! That was terrific!" said Hojo. "What did we get?"  
"Three hundred ninety-seven volts and two point five amps," said one of the techs. "Damn..."  
"A magic power of thirty three," said Gast. "That was a genuine Bolt spell." Hojo opened the door to the testing room and walked over to Sephiroth. He spotted Hojo coming towards him.  
"Hey Dad," he said. "Did I do well?"  
Hojo extended a hand to him. "You did fantastic," he said. Sephiroth took his hand and pulled himself up.  
"I'm really tired," he said with a weak smile.  
"That's understandable. Magic takes a lot of energy. You'll go back soon."  
"Yeah, let's go." Together, they walked from the testing room. But not to the elevators. "Dad, where are we—?" Sephiroth stopped dead. They were heading for that little white room with the table. "We're not going in there again, are we?" said Sephiroth, panic rising in his voice. "You said we'd go to the top of the building again!"  
Hojo laughed softly. "You said that, not me."  
Gast turned away from this scene as Hojo took Sephiroth through the door. Though he couldn't hear anything save the machinery coming from the testing room doorway, he couldn't block the scream that pierced his mind. At that moment something inside him broke, and he knew that staying could only bring him misery. And neither for the first time nor the last he muttered to himself, "What have I done?"  
  
Memorandum From: Professor Richard Gast To: President Shin-Ra Date: XX month XX day XX year Re: Resignation  
  
Mr. President:  
Due to certain circumstances, I request to resign my position as head of the Jenova Project. However, I am not resigning from Shin-Ra completely. I would like to continue my studies of the Ancients (Cetra) along with Ifalna. I feel that there is still some important information to be found. With your approval, we will travel the world in search of more clues about Jenova and the Ancients. I will compile a report on everything that we find. I would like to set out as soon as you make your decision. Please respond as soon as possible.  
Thank you, Rick Gast  
  
President Shin-Ra stopped reading. "So, what do you think of that?" he said to Hojo.  
"He wanted to resign?" Hojo asked. "I don't believe it." They were both on the top floor of the building, in the president's private office. Shin-Ra was at his desk and Hojo sat in a chair in front of him.  
"I was just surprised as you were. He seemed so enthusiastic about the Project in the beginning. I wonder what happened."  
"So, what did you do?"  
The president leaned back in his chair. "I let him go, of course. He was adamant." He made a dismissive gesture. "I don't feel too bad about it though. Maybe now we can speed things up a bit. As his second in command, you are now the head of the Jenova Project."  
Hojo's eyes gleamed. So the bastard was good for something after all. But still, only in absence. He felt like laughing at the irony. Head of the Jenova Project! "Thank you, Mister President," he said. "I'll be sure to run the Project to the best of my abilities."  
He nodded. "Good. But I want things to move more quickly. Already, tensions are growing between us and Wutai." He leaned forward. "I have confidence in your ability as a scientist. I don't expect to be disappointed."  
"Yes, Mister President." 


	6. Chapter VI: Futility

Chapter VI: Futility  
  
A month passed. Hojo came more and more often to do God knows what to Sephiroth. He took him away healthy and brought him back sick. Sephiroth's birthday came and went. He spent it in bed.  
And there Miriam was, in the middle of all of it.  
She tried to protest whenever Hojo came by, but it was lost upon him. The only thing she could do was care for Sephiroth when he was in pain. Time seemed to lose its regularity. There was only the time when he was sick, when he was well, and the time she was alone. Whenever she tried to give him his chocobo doll, he would just gaze at it with fear in his eyes. Whenever she was in bed, she could hear him calling, calling for his father. Sometimes she would just sit at the counter and cry; sometimes Sephiroth did the same thing.  
Today, he was already gone. Hojo had gotten him early. She tried to occupy herself by doing things around the apartment, but inevitably her mind would turn back to Sephiroth. It always did. As she was walking across the foyer with a basket of laundry in her arms, an envelope slipped through the mail slot on the door and fluttered to the ground. Blinking a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things, she set the basket down and picked up the envelope. It was addressed simply to Miriam Adler, room B-38. Her pulse quickened as she slid a finger under the flap and ripped it open. Inside there was a keycard with a large number 70 on it. Stuck to the keycard was a yellow sticky note with a short message:  
  
This is my card to the 67th floor. If you want the truth, it is waiting for  
you there in testing room 105. Gast.  
  
She had a feeling she knew what this was about. It had happened a month ago, the day of Sephiroth's magical aptitude test. There was a knock on the door and Miriam opened it to see an older man holding Sephiroth in his arms. She immediately recognized him as Professor Gast, head of the Science Department. So this is another one of the men responsible for this atrocity, she thought. Bastard. I'll never forgive them.  
"Excuse me, Miss Adler," he said. "May I come in? I need to give Sephiroth a rest." His voice was thin and exhausted, like the last breezes of a dying storm. She turned her gaze away but stepped back from the door. "Can you show me where his room is?"  
"End of the hall," she said listlessly. She scowled at him, daring to say something else, but her fury was quickly replaced by an odd sense of pity. She knew he couldn't be much older than forty, yet his face was wearied and worn, as if he had aged twenty years in the span of three. He walked slowly as he carried Sephiroth to his room. Actually, it wasn't much like a walk. It was more like a feeble shuffle, the type that you see in an old man that has arthritis in every joint and hardly any energy to climb a set of stairs. What's wrong with him? She thought as she followed him into Sephiroth's room. He was putting Sephiroth under the covers when she came in. His gentleness surprised her; he made sure to pull the covers up completely, and stroked Sephiroth's face with the back of his hand.  
"Professor?" she said. All of the hostility had gone out of her voice.  
He raised his head. There were tears glistening in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.  
"Sorry?" repeated Miriam. "For...?"  
"Everything." Gast drew himself up to his full height. "I'm leaving this place. I can't bear to work on this project any longer."  
"Just what is this project?" Miriam pressed. "What does it have to do with Sephiroth?"  
"I can't tell you that."  
"Why not?" she said with growing hysteria. "You're leaving aren't you? What does it matter if you tell me?"  
"I'm bound by my contract with the Shin-Ra," he said. "There will be a lot of trouble if I break it."  
"But—" He came over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders the way she did to Sephiroth. Her brandy eyes stared into his hazel ones.  
"If anyone deserves to know, it's you," he said. "I'll find a way to show you what's going on. Consider that a promise." He let her go and traipsed out the door. She never saw him again.  
Now looking at the card in her hand, she saw a realm of possibilities appear before her. They had only left five minutes ago. She could do it. She could sneak up to the testing room and stop them. There was still time. Putting the card in her pocket with a renewed resolve, she exited the apartment.  
As Miriam walked through the corridors, she had an increasing feeling that everybody around was looking at her. It was the same feeling that a child would get when sneaking a midnight snack up to his room, knowing in the back of his mind that an adult would come up to him and ask him what he was doing, like they could somehow sense his secret. And that would be it. Busted. She tried to put on the confident stroll of a business woman going to a meeting just like every day, nothing strange here thank you, but she thought better of it. Just walk like you normally do. No one will notice.  
Maybe so, but it sure felt like they would. She came to the end of the hall where it opened up into the plaza. The elevator was just across from where she stood. Crowds of people swarmed past, going about their daily business. Suddenly, she longed for the apartment again, to go back to bed and forget all about this, maybe catch up on a little reading before Sephiroth returned.  
No, I can't go back now! she told herself. The plaza was a sea to be crossed, one where a shark could be lurking just beneath its placid surface. Sink or swim. Taking a deep breath, she strode into the sea. Her heart pounded. She would feel a tap on her shoulder and it would be a dark suited Turk standing there telling her that she needed to come with him. Or he could be the last thing she ever saw. The thought sent a tremor running through her.  
She reached the elevator and scanned the area. There was just one person looking in her general direction, a man sitting on a bench. She looked at her watch, made an "oh-no-I-forgot-something" expression, and hurried onboard the elevator. When the doors closed, she leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. I feel like a spy, she thought wryly. She swiped the card in the slot and chose 67. The elevator rose rapidly in response.  
There were much fewer people on the 67th floor, but Miriam made sure to stick to shadows. A woman in a blue skirt and blouse wearing a hair ribbon would no doubt draw some attention. She slid along the wall, her hands shaking more and more with each step. There were numerous doors in this area, and she counted them off as she went. 99...101...103...105. Getting on her toes, she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through a little window set into the door. It was empty. Apparently the scientists were still setting up. A cold sweat broke out on her brow as she stepped inside. There was another window in the front wall, this one very large, and beneath it a control panel. It looked out onto a more spacious room devoid of any furnishings. Miriam guessed that's where Sephiroth did his magic, or whatever it was. Two desks were set along the back wall, above them some cabinets. A tall storage closet stood in the furthest corner.  
Before she could do anything else, she heard voices approaching from outside the room. Her heart leapt with terrible chest constricting panic. Her legs were rooted to the floor, like in one of those dreams where you wanted to run but couldn't. Oh God, what did I get myself into? Thinking quickly she dashed into the small space beside the closet in the corner and pulled one of the doors open so that it concealed her. She put an eye up to a small opening. Hojo and a technician came in through the door. In the bigger room, another technician came in with (Miriam squeezed her fists shut) Sephiroth and began hooking him up to some equipment. His eyes had a vapid, glazed look.  
"As soon as Henri's ready, we can begin the Fire test," said the technician. Hojo just nodded. "If he doesn't make it past a magic power of forty, I'm assuming that means he'll get more Jenova cells." Miriam's mind reeled. Jenova cells? The techie working outside gave a thumbs-up and came into the observation room.  
"Okay. Ready whenever you are, professor," he said. Hojo reached to pick up the microphone, but stopped and looked back at where Miriam was hiding. She shrank back against the wall. Amazingly, she had to fight the insane urge to laugh out loud. That's when they made (or she thought they made) eye contact. His eyes were those of a man possessed, no humanity, no mercy. But they shone with brutal and clear sanity. He sees me, oh God he's angry, he's just going to come over here and kill me now. Sephiroth—  
"Something wrong, professor?" asked the EEG techie.  
To Miriam's immense relief, he turned around again. "It's nothing," he said. "Let's begin." He picked up the microphone. "Sephiroth, I want you to aim your magic at the target on the floor. Make it as powerful as you possibly can."  
"No," Sephiroth said.  
"What?" said Hojo in a deadly calm voice.  
Sephiroth took a hitching breath and dropped the materia. "I won't do it."  
Way to go, Sephiroth, thought Miriam.  
Hojo set the microphone down without turning it off and went outside into the testing room. Picking up the materia, he knelt beside his son. "Sephiroth, take the materia," he said, his voice perfectly neutral.  
"No." He looked down at the floor.  
"Why not?"  
Sephiroth looked up again, but this time tears were spilling from his eyes. "Because no matter how much I do, I always have to be hurt again!" He sniffed. "You always have to give me that Jenova...."  
There was no sympathy in Hojo's eyes. "Cast the spell."  
"No."  
"Cast it."  
"I won't do it."  
"Cast it!"  
"No!"  
"Cast it, God damn you!"  
Sephiroth turned violently towards him, making tears fly off his cheeks like pearls. "Why are you doing this?" Hojo reached out and grabbed him around the throat. He gasped as black roses began blooming in front of his eyes.  
Miriam was sure he would just squeeze a bit harder and snap Sephiroth's neck. Instead, he drew him close and said with frightening composure, "Deus vult, Sephiroth. Because God wills it!"  
She couldn't take it any longer. She burst from her hiding spot with her hands over her eyes, weeping furiously. The techs probably saw her as she dashed out the door, but she could have cared less. She had to get out of here, to run, to be anywhere else but this wretched place. Nothing good had ever come out of it. Flying over to the elevator, her feet barely touching the ground, she could hardly think. Her mind swam in a grey fog, a whirlpool not of words but raw emotion and incoherent phrases. Fear. Injustice. Hate. Pity. Ache. Ache. Ache.  
Through the whirlpool she fell through the elevator doors. Her hand smacked a random button. She wanted to open her arms and scream  
(not fair not fair stop hurting)  
to the sky. But she didn't, she kept it in, kept it under control just like that other time, yes that other time where all action was futile and words meant nothing. The door opened.  
Run. The word came back and she obeyed. Somewhere back on the 67th floor Sephiroth was crying. Fly away, fly away, nothing to fear, when an angel child cries, the whole world will hear. The world might hear, sure, but who says it might not just turn the other cheek and not listen? Miriam's lungs burned as she bolted down into an empty area. Without warning her legs turned to stone. That's it. She couldn't move anymore. Her legs disobeyed her mind's command and gave out. She fell against a wall, put her face into her arm, and cried.  
I couldn't do anything, she thought. I was up there watching Sephiroth suffer and all I could do was run away. I'm worthless. This felt familiar though, a feeling that she had once before. It was the day Michael died, when she was on the phone with a Midgar policeman. When he told her what had happened, it was as if reality itself was suspended. She just stood there and dropped the phone on the floor. There wasn't even sadness at first, just a sense of utter bewilderment. Death? No. She thought maybe that if she called him on his cell or went do to where he worked, it would help. It slowly dawned on her that there was absolutely nothing she could do. She felt powerless, that every move she made was in futility.  
As the swirling thoughts slowly settled, Miriam began to notice her surroundings. She was in some kind of waiting area, long but very tight. There was a bench on the left side and a water cooler on the right. A couple of water colors done by local artists hung on the walls. Most importantly, it was deserted. Her eyes focused on the patterns in the floral carpet. Now what? She had just left Sephiroth with Hojo like a coward. He's probably injecting him with more of that Jenova right now. The tears came again, hot and stinging. Damn it, why can't I ever do anything? She thought. Why can't I ever—  
"Excuse me, are you okay?" came a low voice. Miriam froze and looked up slowly. Oh please, no. She recognized him instantly. He was tall, dressed in a dark blue suit with matching slacks. He was completely bald, but had a goatee on his chin and black shades on his eyes. Rude of the Turks, she thought. Is he here to kill me? Did they find out it was me who was in there already?  
"I-I'm fine," she said, hastily wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.  
"Are you sure?" Rude said. "You were crying. If you want, you can tell me what's wrong."  
She stood up straight. "No really, I'm alright. I was only resting. Now I really need to get moving or I'll be late for my meeting." The words just spilled from her mouth. She had no idea she could lie like that despite being so scared.  
"It's best to talk about what's making you upset," he said unfazed. "Besides, you certainly don't look like you're going to a meeting." He glanced at her clothes.  
"I told you already, nothing's wrong with me," she said. "You're making me late. Excuse me." She tried to slip by him, but his hand closed around her wrist. "Hey! Stop it!" She pulled against him but his grip was strong. With a sigh she gave up struggling. Against her will, her eyes watered again.  
"Now why don't you tell me what's wrong? I hate to see a woman upset."  
She gave a spiteful little laugh. "A sympathetic Turk? Now that's a new one." She looked back at him to see if this had any effect, but his face was inscrutable. "Please don't kill me," she said softly.  
"I wasn't planning on it." Warm relief spread through her body. She exhaled shakily and collapsed onto the bench. Rude sat down next to her.  
"Okay," said Miriam. "I'll tell you. Heaven knows I need a psychiatrist anyway. You probably know about this new project that the Science Department is working on, right?" He nodded. "I'm the caretaker of a boy named Sephiroth who's central to this project. I have only the slightest idea of what it's about, but...they use him as some kind of experiment for improving fighting abilities. They put some substance in his body called 'Jenova'. It hurts him, and I can't stand it. I don't know what to do. I don't think I can stop it." She was careful to leave out as much information as possible about the project, not wanting to tip him off about her recent escapades.  
Rude leaned back with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Hmm. Sorry to say, but you're dealing with a pretty difficult situation here. The President is dead set on having this thing completed. Maybe you should try to talk to the project head about this."  
"Professor Hojo? I've already tried to reason with him when he comes to get Sephiroth. It doesn't work."  
"What about getting him alone?" Rude said.  
Miriam shook her head vigorously. "I can't! Just thinking of reasoning with that man gives me the chills. He'd probably kill me. Then what would Sephiroth do?"  
"You're the wife of Michael Adler, right?" Rude said suddenly.  
Miriam whirled to face him. "How did you—?"  
"Know him?" he finished. "We met in the bar one day on the sixty-first floor." He smiled, a surprisingly humanizing gesture. "Nice guy. He told me all about you and his work. I actually ended up guarding the place where he worked a lot. Yeah. I was just thinking about the day he died."  
"Stop. I don't want to hear about that," said Miriam.  
Rude didn't stop. In fact, it looked like he was just getting started. "I was there on that day. I actually saw him about fifteen minutes before he jumped. I've never seen him look so disturbed. He was sweating and pacing like a mad man. I still remember what he was saying to himself—"  
"Please, stop it."  
"—'I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds'." He turned to Miriam. Through his sunglasses, she could feel his eyes boring into her. "Do you want to know why he killed himself?"  
She wanted to say yes, but her mind said no. She had spent the last three years wondering the reason nearly every day, but knowing the truth now...it was like if you met a person who convinced you that they knew if there was a God or not. Given the chance, would she ask them? No. Probably not. Because even though there was a chance God existed, there was also an equal chance that the answer would be no. Better be on the safe side and not ask. The truth could drive you insane.  
She weighed her options. Finally: "Yes."  
"Michael Adler pioneered a new way to put Jenova cells into solution without destroying them," Rude said. "He wasn't sure what they would be used for, so he didn't question why he had to do it. That's when he was told what the Jenova Project was about. He heard what his work was going to be used for, and it drove him to the brink."  
The information hit her, but it didn't quite actualize itself. Part of the Jenova Project? I had no idea. Then again, it wasn't any surprise that she didn't know. Michael had to take the same oath of confidentiality that all the other scientists took.  
"That's why you need to talk to Hojo," said Rude.  
"What does that have to do with him? He still won't listen. It's useless."  
"Listen!" he said, putting his hands on hers. "Your husband knew that this was wrong. He knew it and killed himself because of it. You also know, but you can do something about it. Isn't that enough reason to try?"  
Miriam glanced silently at one of the watercolors on the wall. "You're right," she said after a moment. "I shouldn't keep thinking like that. I'll try to reason with Professor Hojo." She got to her feet and the young Turk followed. "Th-thank you," she said.  
"Hey, it's nothing," he said. "I already told you that I don't like seeing a woman upset. Good luck then." He turned on heel with a small wave and disappeared around the corner.  
  
And that's how Miriam found herself on the 40th floor waiting outside the canteen for Hojo. She had asked the perky blond secretary down in the front office where she could find him. The secretary said that all Science Department employees were on their coffee breaks at this time and that she might be able to catch him in passing on the 40th floor before his meeting. Not wanting to miss this chance, Miriam hurried up without hesitation.  
Talking with Rude had empowered her somehow. All of her previous fears were gone, at least for the moment. Books would probably say she was "in the zone" or something along those lines.  
That was when she saw Hojo come around the corner waving to someone she couldn't see. She was struck by how normal he acted. It was almost impossible to believe that this person bidding farewell to a comrade was the same one who had nearly strangled his son only an hour before. That's him, believe it, Miriam. She stepped forward. "Professor Hojo."  
He looked at her. "Hm? Miss Adler?" he said. "What are you doing up here?"  
Her eyes flicked around the room, checking the surroundings. "Um, can I talk to you for a moment?"  
Hojo raised an eyebrow. "If you make it fast," he answered. "I have an appointment in ten minutes. What's the problem?" Looking around again, she led him into an abandoned office without another word. Boxes filled with papers were piled all around the room on top of desks and tables, no doubt remnants of some long gone employee. The only light in the place came streaming in through the clouded glass set into the door. Through it people appeared as blurry black shadows.  
"Professor," she said shutting the door and standing up straight. "I think you should stop this project. Whatever you're doing to your son...it's just wrong."  
"Ah, so that's what this is about," he said. He laughed to himself a little. "You sound just like Gast. But you must realize that I couldn't stop this even if I wanted to." His eyes narrowed. "And I don't."  
"It hurts him! You know it does," she persisted. "He spends almost half the week in bed because of you."  
"He hasn't gotten used to the substance's power yet," said Hojo. "It hurts because it's foreign. His immune system has never seen anything like it. But believe me, in the end it will all be worth it."  
"All be worth it?" said Miriam. She heard the edge in her voice, the hysteria rising like a black tide pounding against a dam. She willed herself not to let it crack. "Worth it to you maybe. Don't you see how he loves you? When he's sick he cries out for his father! He cries out your name! You make him cast magic and if he doesn't, you treat him like that—"  
"So you were there," he said with dawning realization.  
The room suddenly became stiflingly hot.  
"Wh-what?" she stammered.  
"The testing room," Hojo said. "Yes, I thought something was wrong when I saw the cabinet open. You're supposed to leave everything as you found it before you leave the room, but I passed it off as nothing. I remembered afterwards and checked there. That's where I found a keycard."  
Time stopped. Miriam frantically retraced her steps. She used the keycard to get up to the 67th floor. There was no memory of it falling out of her pocket. Did she even put it away at all? Was she just holding it and somehow dropped it? Too many possible situations. It was all lost in a mist of memory.  
"I don't know anything about that," she said, avoiding eye contact. The urge to cry was irresistible. Keep it under control.  
"You shouldn't lie to me," Hojo said. His eyes had an air of satisfaction. "It doesn't matter if you saw, though. Nobody else in this building knows. If you try to tell, no one will believe you. It's useless." He turned to go.  
The dam broke. "Wait!" Miriam cried. She ran towards him with her hands outstretched, tripped, grabbed onto the lapels of his coat, "Please..."she said, weeping into his chest, "Please...stop it. Just stop it." His black sweater was warm against her cheek.  
Hojo's face remained unperturbed. "You're getting hysterical." Pulling away gently, he made for the door again, but she held fast.  
She shook her head and a sob racked her body. "Please stop it. I'm begging you. Just stop it. Just stop it. Just—"  
His hand flashed out as quickly as a snake. Her cheek stinging, Miriam reeled backwards. Her foot caught on one of the boxes and she fell over it, hitting her arm hard against the floor to break her fall.  
Hojo lowered his hand to his side. Silhouetted against the door, he appeared twice the height as normal. What little light came into the room reflected off of his spectacles giving them an ethereal white glow. Behind them, his eyes burned with inner fire.  
"For God's sake, control yourself, woman," he said. "You listen to me. I gave you a chance when I found out you were watching me behind my back. However, if you ever cross me again, you will be very, very sorry." Without a second look he stepped outside and slammed the door behind him.  
Miriam took a long, shaking breath. I guess you really can't fight city hall, huh? She thought. She touched her cheek gingerly, wondering if her jaw was broken. Needless to say it hurt like hell. She moved her jaw. It seemed to work alright, albeit a bit creakily. Bruised, but not broken. But something told her he didn't put all his strength behind the blow. She took her hand off her face.  
Her fingers came away red; blood was blossoming from the place where his wedding band had cut her. 


	7. Chapter VII: The Final Fantasy

Chapter VII: The Final Fantasy  
  
Dad's gone crazy.  
That was the thought that floated through Sephiroth's head as he sat on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, looking at Bochi. The doll was at the far end of the bed, its blank eyes like coals. Sephiroth hadn't slept with it for days. He didn't want it to be true, but it seemed to be the only explanation. Every other day or so, going to the 67th floor, running tests, giving him Jenova, without so much of a hint of sympathy. And the worst thing of all was that he couldn't do anything about it, and neither could Ma'am. She tried though and he knew it. Every time his dad came around she would tell Hojo to leave him be. Something must have happened because when she came in to check on him he saw a bruise on her face.  
There came a hissing noise from across the room, or maybe just from inside his mind. At any rate Sephiroth fell back, cold sweat instantly forming on his brow. I have to get out of here. The solution came to him, direct and brutally simple: I'll run away. This wasn't the first time the idea crossed him, but it had never come with such finality. He felt almost guilty thinking about it, and Bochi's black button eyes staring through the dark didn't help. But what else could he do?  
The monster hissed at him again out of the darkness. Without thinking Sephiroth grabbed Bochi and hurled him blindly at his target. He never heard it hit the ground.  
  
Walking through the building again, walking into the inevitable red corridor of fiery agony. His hand was in his father's, but not out of love. No, Sephiroth suspected it was to keep him from running away. The elevator loomed ahead, a ride that ascended into the heavens but also to hell. Pain was a large part of the fear that he felt, although not all of it. It had taken him a while to notice, but after rounds and rounds of Jenova injections he felt different, like there was something new growing inside of him. It wasn't another being exactly, but an inescapable presence that his very spirit seemed to rebel against. He looked longingly at a staircase nearby. Every time he went up, he came down with the thing inside him larger. What if it grew so big that he wasn't himself anymore, that he lost his soul to another?  
What if I'm not me? Sephiroth thought. He saw that the elevator was right in front of them and his legs wanted to stop, wanted desperately to turn the other way. No, I'm not going there again! Jerking himself out of Hojo's grip, he made for the staircase, his heart hammering away. He felt his father's hand just barely miss grabbing his arm. Adrenaline surged through his body as he ran across the plaza and through the staircase door.  
  
Hojo stood and watched as his son tore away from him and disappeared into the stairwell. He didn't bother to go after him. "Hm. So he's finally decided he's had enough," he murmured with a smirk. It was understandable. Jenova treatments were no party. Fine then. I'll let him have his fun. I'll let him think he'll make it. But I'll show him that hopes of freedom are only a fleeting fantasy. He took a cell phone from his coat and with a final glance at the stairs, dialed security.  
  
Pounding down the stairs, Sephiroth suddenly found himself thinking of Ma'am. I didn't get to say good bye to her, he thought with guilt. I wonder what she'll do when she finds out. He grabbed the railing and turned the corner. I guess I'll write her a message or something. I hope she forgives me. Just as he reached the seventh floor landing, a Shin-Ra guard came through the door. He tried to stop himself but it was too late. He smashed right into the guard and fell to the ground, knocking him back. A green materia orb flew past his ear and bounced down the steps. Disconcerted, the guard drew his gun. Sephiroth took one look at it and scrambled to his feet. They've got guns? He thought dashing down the stairs. Oh God, now they're going to kill me?  
He risked a peek over his shoulder. There were three guards running two flights of stairs above him, all carrying silenced pistols. Their footsteps echoed in the enclosed space, making it sound as if a whole army was pursuing him. Not looking where he was going, Sephiroth's foot slipped off a stair when he was halfway to the fourth floor landing. He fell through the air with a strangled yell and landed on his arm hard. The arm with the Jenova injections.  
A red hot knife of pain split his arm in two. Tears burst from his eyes and he cried out in agony. He felt tired, drained. The footsteps marched just a flight above him. I'll just go to sleep, he thought. Go to sleep and let them have me. I don't think I can win. From in front of his eyes came a sparkle of green.  
Materia.  
Sephiroth reached out with his good arm and grabbed it. It was a Fire materia; he could feel it in its quiet strength. Normally he wanted nothing to do with materia, but now it seemed to fill him with a new determination. He didn't want to go back and continue the tests. And he would make sure he'd see Ma'am again. Behind him, the guards turned and came down the last flight.  
"Stay where you are!" one of them commanded. No. He would make it. Just as the guards raised their pistols, Sephiroth leapt up with the materia and sprinted out the fourth floor door. A tiny dart whizzed past his head.  
"Agh!" He ran faster through a short hallway and found himself in a place he recognized. He was on the mall level of the Shin-Ra building, a place he and Ma'am had come often when they went shopping together. The floor was split into two halves with a straight fissure separating them. The two halves were only connected by three bridges spanning the fissure. Sephiroth remembered how he always loved to lean over the railing and stare down through the split to the floor below. Stores with neon signs stretched to his left and right. Choosing a random direction, he plunged into the crowds.  
Okay, now what do I do? Going back to the stairs was out. The only way to the ground floor seemed to be the elevators. He looked back again. The three guards were struggling against the flow of people. Looking forward again his heart gave a leap. Behind several rows of people two more guards were heading straight for him. Sephiroth stopped in his tracks and looked around frantically for a place to hide. He couldn't run forward into the appliance store, nor could he go back and hide in the bookstore. The only place left was the place in the middle...the bathrooms.  
Getting down low he went into the waiting area and turned into the men's room. He nearly bumped into a man taking a leak in a urinal. "Hey! Watch it kid!" the guy said. Sephiroth muttered an apology and slipped into an empty stall, hopped onto the toilet, and pulled his legs up. Through the closed stall door he heard a sudden commotion. Several people stormed into the bathroom.  
"Hey, you there!" came a voice that he recognized as one of the guards.  
"Sweet Jesus!" said the guy at the urinal. "What the hell is wrong with you people? Can't a guy piss in peace?"  
"Can it. Did you see a kid with white hair run in here?"  
Please say no, thought Sephiroth, as if he could somehow affect the guy's thoughts.  
"Yeah, he's in the last stall." Sephiroth felt a jolting chill flood through his body. "What're you gonna do with him?" The guards ignored him and pushed past him.  
I'm trapped, Sephiroth thought. I can't believe this is it. I was so stupid to come in here! Just then he remembered the materia. Maybe this wasn't the end after all. He gripped it tightly in his fist and waited.  
The door opened. One of the guards pointed his gun at him. "Freeze!"  
"Fire!" Sephiroth yelled. His whole body heated up and with a ripple of flame, a ball of fire shot from his hands. The guard stumbled back with a grunt as the fireball blasted over him and hit the back wall. Blackened ceramic tiles flew everywhere.  
"What the hell is going on here?" screamed the man. Sephiroth shot another Fire spell at the ceiling as he ran, causing plaster to shower down all over the bathroom. He flung the door open and ran for his life towards the elevators, slipping the materia into his watchband as he went. A couple of people were getting on the next car. Sephiroth picked up the pace and made it just before the doors closed. He saw that the button for the ground floor was the only one pressed. Thank God for small favors.  
When the elevator reached the bottom, Sephiroth darted across the lobby. With ragged breaths, he burst out of the front doors to freedom. The fresh air was cool against his skin. A light shower poured from the cloudy skies, dousing him. It felt wonderful. That was when four Shin-Ra guards came up the stairs to block his path. Sephiroth skidded to a stop and tried to run the other way, but five more guards came out of the building and surrounded him.  
No, no, no! No matter where he turned, there was someone in his way. After all that, it wasn't supposed to turn out like this. It just wasn't fair. Sephiroth set his jaw and willed himself not to cry. His cheeks burned in the chilly wintry air.  
"So there you are."  
Sephiroth turned when he heard the voice. He saw Hojo stride out of the building, crossing in front of one of the guards and standing before him.  
"Dad..." He trailed off and tensed when he saw the pistol in his hand. Hojo aimed it directly at him.  
"You thought you could run away, did you?" He gave a short, harsh laugh as frigid as a January wind. The two figures stood locked in place as the rain fell around them. Sephiroth could only stare into his father's cold, cold eyes, unable to breathe, unable to move.  
"You might as well try to dodge raindrops." He squeezed the trigger. In an instant there was a small dart protruding from Sephiroth's collarbone. The world swayed around him and he fell into blackness.  
  
"Selective memory wipe."  
"Mister President?"  
Hojo was in the president's office again, speaking to him as the fiery dying sun went down behind the buildings of Midgar. In the infirmary, Sephiroth slept a dreamless sleep.  
"I would like you to perform a selective memory wipe on Sephiroth," he said. "Is that a problem?"  
"Not at all. I'm just not sure if it's necessary."  
President Shin-Ra massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers. "All I want is that he forgets about this whole incident and about his time here. I don't want to give him an identity crisis."  
"Might I ask why?"  
"His memories would interfere with his cooperation in the next stage," the president said. "They would only be holding his back from reaching his full potential." He set his elbows on the desk and laced his fingers together. "Remember, the Project is being moved back to Nibelheim. That's where his training will begin."  
"Understood, Mister President," said Hojo. He got up and left the office as the sun sank completely behind the horizon.  
  
When Sephiroth came to, the world was completely dark. He was lying on something soft and there was pleasant warmth on his face. Ow...my head. His head felt heavy and his temples throbbed like he had hit them on a brick wall. With great effort he sat up and opened his eyes. He was sitting on a white cot in the middle of what looked like a hospital room. In front of his bed was a wooden dresser. Someone had left a vase full of flowers on it. Dust motes danced in the golden rays of morning sun that filtered in through the cracks in the blinds. "Jeez, what is this place?" he wondered aloud. It was bizarre, but he had no recollection of how he got here.  
There was a pattering of footsteps outside the room and the door opened suddenly. A fair haired woman holding a chocobo doll in her arms came in. She had a terribly kind face that was fraught with concern. "Sephiroth!" she said, putting the chocobo doll down on the dresser. The woman came over to the side of his bed. "Sephiroth, are you all right?"  
"Um, yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Thanks."  
An expression of relief crossed her face. "I'm so glad. I totally understand that you tried to run away and I forgive you."  
Sephiroth cocked his head. I tried to run away? He shook the thought from his mind and asked what he thought was the obvious question: "Who are you?"  
The woman blinked. "It's me, Miriam. You know, Ma'am."  
"I've never seen you before," he said.  
She put her hands on her hips. "Sephiroth, that's not funny."  
"Really, I haven't," he insisted. The lady's face was a mask of hopeless despair.  
"Hojo...he didn't...." she said to herself. Leaning forward she placed her fingers lightly on either side of Sephiroth's face and looked into his eyes. Her own shone with tears. "Sephiroth, please say you know me."  
He furrowed his brow and thought, and there was something, something in that face and voice and touch that struck a chord deep within him, but as soon as it came it disappeared again like a swirl of sand on the breath of the breeze. He shook his head. "Sorry, I don't know you." He felt terrible saying that, but it was the truth.  
With a shaking hand she wiped a tear from her eye and smiled at him sadly. Then she bent down and kissed him on the forehead.  
Sephiroth felt his eyes widen. He was being kissed by a total stranger, yet it all felt so comforting. He breathed in her sweet scent. It was flowery, sunny, like a bed of roses. Emotions came flooding back, making his heart ache almost painfully. And then some lost part of him wanted to cry too, to be hugged by this woman, to be told everything was going to be all right, the sweet lie that everyone wanted to hear and believe.  
At last she pulled away, the same sad smile on her lips. "I guess you won't be coming home to me any more," she said pushing a lock of silvery hair out of his face. "I'm sorry." Rising up again, she gave him a final wave and walked out the door. That was the last time he ever saw her.  
Sephiroth sat on his bed still staring after her. Who was that anyway? She had been awfully nice. And she had mentioned Hojo.  
He frowned. Yes, Hojo. It was a name he equated with pain and suffering. That's right. That man had hurt him many times. Done something to him. His hand formed into a fist. When he did this, a green materia orb fell from his watchband.  
How did I get this? He thought. Nothing seemed to make sense today. As he raised his gaze from the materia, his eyes fell upon the chocobo doll.  
What a stupid doll, he thought with a smirk. I think I'm a little too old for that. He extended his arm. The doll burst into flame and fell to the floor smoldering.  
A little too old.  
Taking in the acrid smell of smoking stuffing and fabric, he sat back and watched it burn. 


	8. Epilogue: Full Circle

Epilogue: Full Circle  
  
It was many years later before Miriam could let go of the things that had held her back for so long, like manacles on her ankles, wrists, and soul. She had moved to a little house in Sector 5. The Shin-Ra wanted to help her pay for it, but she refused. It was dirty money. Then came the checks, big fat ones that arrived every week stamped with the Shin-Ra logo and made out to "Miss Miriam Adler" for "your services to the company." 5000 Gil a week was good money.  
She had taken every last one and burned them in the fireplace, watching as the flames licked over them, turning them into curling black flowers that crumbled away to nothingness. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes.  
This morning, Miriam came down the stairs and out the front door to get the paper. Ever since she had heard Sephiroth's name mentioned around...oh, fifteen years ago, it had become a daily habit. She was shocked to see him again after all that time. He had become a superb general apparently, standing in front of a platoon of soldiers with a long sword in his hand. After that she scoured the paper religiously to find some mention of him, but it was all about his accomplishments in the war. Which meant of course, he was killing people. There was some part of her that still couldn't accept that fact.  
Five years ago, there was another shocker: The Great General Sephiroth had mysteriously disappeared. He wasn't dead though, she was sure of that. Or at least she was then. Confidence has a tendency to erode over time, like water crumbling a hole in the earth.  
Upon seeing this morning's headline, she gasped and dropped her cup of coffee on the front step. It smashed to pieces with a tinkling of porcelain. Coffee seeped languidly into the newsprint causing a spreading brown stain, but nothing could obscure the screaming bold font which proclaimed:  
  
THE GREAT SEPHIROTH RETURNS, MURDERS PRESIDENT OF SHIN-RA INC.  
Authorities Still Puzzled Over Mysterious Break In  
  
Miriam's eyes scanned the paper once, twice, thrice. The Great Sephiroth Returns. A single thought invaded her mind, something she had forgotten about until this moment. When an angel child cries...  
"The whole world will hear," she whispered. She turned her face towards the starry night sky, the same sky that hung over the Black Caped Man as he fled across the plains, sword in one hand, Jenova in the other, and disappeared like a speck of eternity. 


End file.
